


Assassin, Sister, Matchmaker

by Baked_Potato



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Adopt-a-pet, F/F, Fix-It, Fluff, Humor, Matchmaking, Minor Gamora/Peter Quill, Post-Avengers: Infinity War, Tourists
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-22
Updated: 2018-05-22
Packaged: 2019-05-10 03:54:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14729459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Baked_Potato/pseuds/Baked_Potato
Summary: Set after Avengers: Infinity War. Thanos was defeated before obtaining the mind stone from Vision’s forehead. The Universe is safe; barring the devastation sustained by Wakanda, New York, Xandar, and Knowhere.The rest of the Guardians reunite with Rocket and Groot for celebrations on Earth. Tourist and matchmaking shenanigans ensues.





	Assassin, Sister, Matchmaker

**Author's Note:**

> I'm back! I've been catching up with the Marvel Cinematic Universe lately, and I've had this idea in my head for some time. Infinity War was great, and I appreciated the bold choice of ending, but it left much to be desired in the way of, y'know, happiness and such. Here's a little Mantis/Nebula fix-it fluff for all to enjoy.

“And just as the big purple shmuck was goin’ for capes over there,” Rocket says, pointing a thumb over at Vision – who’s desperately trying to seem casual with Wanda, rendering him oblivious to Rocket’s retelling of the events – “Boom! Thor’s hammer slams him square in the jugular. Head’s go flyin’. It was awesome! ‘course it was, I helped make that hammer, after all.”

“I am Groot.” Comes the reply, in a rather accusing tone.

“Of course you helped! I just did more.”

“I am Groot.” Groot says, seemingly more annoyed. Not annoyed enough to look up from his game, though.

“Handles are handles. I helped restart a star ya idiot.” Rocket says, dismissively.

The rest of the Guardians simply roll their eyes at the pair. After all, they’re all slightly too busy enjoying each other’s company, celebrating their most significant victory to date – celebrating the fact that their family had remained intact throughout the whole ordeal.

Mantis and Nebula sat at the bar, quietly sipping away their respective drinks; hard alcohol for Nebula and coffee for Mantis (after some surprisingly aggressive marketing from Thor). Apparently the death of Thanos was still not enough of an event to budge Nebula’s uptight, and aggressively guarded posture. Her shoulders were tense, back straight as a rod; she had even barked off friendly chatter from both Stark and T’Challa – the latter of whom took it with an unsurprising amount of grace.

“Enjoy the celebrations.” The Wakandan King gave her a slight bow, before turning to face the rest of the Guardians. “And don’t shy away from the drinks and food! Wakanda – and the world owe you a great deal. All of you.”

“We will your highness – especially the drinks,” hollered Rocket. “Say – do you think I could _borrow_ that black suit of y – ow! Hey!” Gamora pinched his side before he could finish his sentence. She could tell T’Challa was a good man, but she still didn’t want to test the monarch’s patience any further – Nebula was doing a good enough job as it is. Thankfully, the King had moved out of earshot, although she could swear she heard a small chuckle.

“Rocket, I do not see the golden cape man of which you spoke of. Are you sure your mind wasn’t creating hallucinations out of fear?” Drax spoke up, drink in hand, eyes scanning attentively for the character Rocket mentioned.

“Still on that Drax, really? He’s sittin’ right ‘ere,” said rocket, once again pointing over at Vision and Wanda’s position at the far end of the room.

“That is nothing but a pathetic Earther. Like you, Quill,” Drax says, eliciting an offended ‘dude!’ from Peter. “It’s alright rocket. I understand the fear one must feel. I, of course, cannot feel such fear.”

“Yeah, yeah –“

“Quill,” Drax quickly interrupts Rocket, while turning to face Peter, “the Earther may be pathetic, but his sense of fashion is far superior to yours, like the Angel-Pirate.” He gives Peter a sympathetic smile that reads ‘I’m here for you.’

“Yeah, well at least my shirts don’t cover up my neck,” Peter says matter-o-factly, with his arm around Gamora’s shoulder – red drink held by his hand at the end. This makes Gamora smile widely, turning slightly under Peter’s arm, and nuzzling her nose into the base of his neck.

Peter’s eyebrows momentarily shoot up. The physical displays of affection were new to him, to the both of them. He had never pinned after a woman for so long (pinning wasn’t really his thing). Gamora was certainly special. He leaned his head ever so slightly into the touch, with his free hand flying to the green one on his lap.

Gamora would normally shy away from any type of affection with Peter when in the presence of others. But if the previous week had taught her anything – god, if her _father_ had taught her anything (if you count being thrown off a cliff to certain death as a ‘teaching moment’) – it was that love was fleeting, so take advantage of it while you can.

Hell, give her credit; in that short amount of time she had been captured, forced to watch her sister get pulled apart piece by piece, then died before being ripped out of an Infinity Stone by a weird girl’s wavy magic hands and a snarky wizard.

So sue her, but she was going to PDA the crap out of Peter for the next few days.

“I am Groot!”

“I’m with the kid ‘ere. Get a room you two,” said Rocket, in a tone much softer than normal, but still no less offended. “C’mon Groot. I still need that guy’s arm.” Rocket and Groot shortly took off.

Gamora smirked, happy that she had Peter all to herself, if but for a moment. The room was incredibly large, with one of the bars to their rear, and a set of stairs to a large platform in the middle of the room. Comfortable chairs were scattered in groups across the room, large glass panels seemed to flank the whole place, giving a wide view out onto the lush forests below.

One would normally not find much privacy amidst a ‘we-just-saved-the-fucking-universe” party – Rocket’s words, not hers – but the heroes had all split up into groups of varying sizes, and the vast room put enough space between the different groups.

“I’m glad we’re here,” she said, bringing her hand up to cup Peter’s cheek.

“I’m glad you’re back.” He gave her a quick kiss to the forehead.

“Drax!” Their heads snapped up, along with those of a few people nearby. The source turned out to be Rocket, who had yelled back from atop the stairs. He was aggressively motioning for him to follow. Drax, of course, entirely oblivious to this.

“Dude! Why do you keep doing this?” Peter asked, incredulously.

“I am invisible to the eye. Plus this is beautiful. I cannot wait to retell this tale to your future offspring. Since you, clearly, will not”

“That’s still disgusting!”

“Drax, leave.” Gamora supplied.

“Hey Drax, they got a game of poker goin’ on!” Rocket yelled. Still embarrassing.

So _that_ got Drax to turn around, bolting towards Rocket and Groot. Gamora could swear she heard something like ‘these Earthers are not ready for my luck’ from the big guy. And she could swear she saw Rocket throw her a dramatic wink. Idiots. All of them.

But they were her idiots.

\---

“Are you sure that this idea of yours is a, y’know, a good one?” Peter asked, sipping his drink slowly. The two of them had spent the rest of the day in each other’s (increasingly) warm embraces. The sun was going down, and the party showed no signs of dying any time soon, so they decided to move out to the balcony to get a better view of the sunset. It was beautiful.

“T’Challa told me they have a repository for strays in one of the districts.”

“T’ – who?” Peter asked, a bit giggly.

“The King, Peter. How much have you had to drink?” Her tone was still warm. To be fair, she too had a fair amount of alcohol buzzing throughout her system at this point.

“Not much,” he drawled. “You sure, she won’t, y’know, kill ‘em?”

“No.” She said, a bit unsure. “Besides, she’ll have Mantis with her.”

“Why are you doing this again?”

“Because,” Gamora said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Have you seen the way she looks at her?”

“Nope.” He said, popping the ‘p.’ “What if she tries to kill Mantis, too?”

“Please, I’ve never seen my sister so…so…so thirsty!” She giggled at her own lapse in vocabulary. Okay, maybe there was a _lot_ more alcohol.

Peter looked at her quizzically. “Fine, but you’re breaking the word, matchmaker. I’m still not sure about all this.”

“Wanna bet?” Got him.

“Oh you’re on, drunky!”

“Hey!”

\---

“A fox?!” Nebula growled.

“A Racoon!” Mantis was absolutely glowing. Possibly from the alcohol.

Slack-jawed, Gamora’s eyes darted desperately between the two women.  

_Idiots_

“No! A kitten.”

**Author's Note:**

> It's been a while since I've written anything remotely un-academic. It will definitely take me a long time to readjust. On a side note, I really don't know why Mantis/Nebula is considered a rare-pairing. Nebula's aggression and social ineptitude combined with Mantis' own social shortcomings and naivety make for an adorable pairing. 
> 
> Feel free to comment. Constructive criticism is especially welcome!


End file.
